


Our Hateful Dance

by emeraldlilie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Pain, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Nothing Good Here, Other, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, The Abusive Relationship No One Talks About, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldlilie/pseuds/emeraldlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel comes home to find the place trashed, he doesn't freak out because he's been through this before, but this will be the last time.<br/>*Possible triggers, so if you're sensitive like that and don't want a healthy dose of truth this is not the story for you.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Hateful Dance

**Author's Note:**

> There are a bunch of nice stories out there where one person is self-abusive and the other person still loves them and has the strength and wisdom of the gods to stay with them no matter what and help them through anything. This is not that story. To be the other person and watch someone consistently hurt themselves and not think highly of themselves is a painful thing that no one talks about, to not be able to help and not know what to do until you just can't take it anymore and have to get out, not because you don't love and care for them but because you do and you can't stand to see them put themselves through pain anymore and not be able to help them because they won't let you. This is not a nice story, there is no comfort, no happy ending, read at your own risk.

\- Our Hateful Dance -

Gabriel saw the mess before he even turned on the light, with a sigh he flipped the switch by the door. It wasn’t as bad as last time, or was he just used to it now?

Tables turned over, legs broken, knick-knacks scattered and busted. The bookcase turned over, he saw torn pages and broken spines every which way by the splintered wood. He closed his eyes tightly and breathed through his nose, he’d just bought some of those, just replaced the ones from the last time.

He followed the trail of destruction, mentally cataloging what could be salvaged and what had to be thrown out. Pictures torn off the walls, glass shattered and frames broken, the prints themselves torn in two or more. Maybe it was for the best that records of the happy times not exist.

He stopped in the bathroom briefly, relieving his bladder as he always did when he got home from work. The blood didn’t faze him, neither did the razor, the sloppy clean up was mildly interesting but not enough. He’d seen it all before.

Gabriel entered the bedroom turning on the light, trying to keep his face blank at the flinching mass in the far corner of the bed, he’d deal with that in a moment. He took a quick survey of the destruction, clothes pulled from closet and dresser, some destroyed, some not, none his. He picked up the ashtray from the floor, he’d given up smoking for this man and dear God he needed a cigarette right now, the change he kept in it scattered about, if he had to guess he’d say that the attempt to over turn the dresser had been unsuccessful so he had settled for swiping everything off the top. He placed the tray on the bare surface and emptied his pockets of keys and change into the bare shell.

The desk chair had miraculously survived the rampage intact and Gabriel righted it and sat looking at the form that had stopped shaking but was now staring at him with wide fearful eyes.

“Are you all bandaged up or do you need to go to the hospital?” He kept his tone neutral and stared at the form.

“No hospital.” Sam’s voice was almost small and at another time it would of broke his heart.

“So you’re not bleeding?” Sometimes Sam was careless with the razor.

“It’s all stopped, and I wrapped them up well.”

“Good.” Sam moved toward him but stopped when he saw Gabriel’s face. This time was different.

“I can’t do this anymore Sam.”

“What?”

“This.” He gestured around at the clothes on the floor, the drawers pulled from the dresser, the sheets torn from the bed, the pictures pulled off the walls, almost everything that could be broke, broke.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re always sorry.” He watched as Sam recoiled as if he’d been slapped.

“I have a problem.”

“An I told you I would help you.”

“You can’t.”

“How do you know if you won’t let me try?” They stared at each other, tears forming in Sam’s eyes.

“You don’t let me help you Sam. You close yourself away and put on a happy face. You carry on as if everything is fine, if I ask you tell me that everything is alright, that you’re happy. If you’re doing anything you’re hiding it from me. Christ Sam, I’m not a mind reader, I’m not psychic. If you tell me everything is fine and you look happy and carry on like normal I think that everything is good, that you’re well and if you need help you’ll come to me. But you don’t come to me do you? You lie to me, you break our things, rip apart our happy moments and find relief in a sharp edge. I can’t help you if you don’t want help. And I can’t come home to find a bomb that I didn’t even know was ticking had gone off. You obviously don’t want to die or you would of already killed yourself, so the help that you need I can’t provide it. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Gabriel, please. I’m sorry. I love you. I won’t do it anymore, I promise. Please don’t leave me.” He watched as the tears fell from Sam’s already red eyes, his resolve crumbled a bit. Closing his eyes, he thought about what he’d have to prepare for his meeting tomorrow.

“You promised before. I love you Sam, but I don’t think you love yourself enough, and I can’t help that, especially since you don’t want help. You only had to say one word and I would have been here, been with you, helped you, got you help. Whatever was needed. But you do this in secret, when I’m not here, you hide your tracks, you don’t want help.”

“Gabriel, please.”

“And what Sam? Stay? Get new furniture, new pictures, new everything just to come home and find it all broken and torn apart like it means nothing again? And what about you? You mean so much to me, you don’t understand how much you mean to me, and it kills me to see how little you mean to yourself, how little you value yourself. I can’t watch that. I can’t hold you together if you don’t even think you deserve it.”

“I can change! For you I can change!”

“No!” Gabriel screamed into the room, silencing Sam except for his choked sobs. “I can’t be the reason Sam. Haven’t you listened? If you want to change you have to do it for you, not me, not your brother, not anyone else, just you.”

“I, I don’t know how. I need help.”

“Are the clinic pamphlets still in the kitchen or did you tear those up too?” Sam hiccupped and shook his head. “I’ll call your brother, he has a set.”

“Dean? You’re going to tell Dean?”

“I was going to call him anyways, tell him you’d be alone here.”

“Alone?”

“The lease is good for six more months. I’ll pay the rent and utilities until then, but then it’s up to you, if you stay or go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Tonight? A hotel, I’ll look for a new place after my meeting tomorrow, maybe crash with a brother. I’ll see.”

“You can’t just leave!”

“All I have left to do is pack my clothes.”

“I’ll kill myself!”

“And I’ll call an ambulance, and when you get out of the hospital I’ll still be gone. Don’t try to threaten me Sam. I’ve heard them all before. Your pleas and promises too so save them. Go clean yourself up or make the bed back up or clean or something, I’ll call Dean, see if he can come over tonight, or you go to him.”

“If you don’t want me alone you should stay.”

Gabriel ignored him and got up from the chair, going to the closet and pulling his phone out. He just couldn’t do it anymore, as much as he loved Sam, wanted the best for him, Sam didn’t love himself, didn’t let anyone in, didn’t let himself be loved, and Gabriel loved himself enough to not willingly go through that battle that no one won, that torture of unseen scars and terror inflicted by the person he loved most anymore.

He called Dean and packed his clothes. He tuned out Sam’s cries and screams, his sadness and anger. He pocketed his change and slipped the apartment key off of the ring and placed it on the dresser, putting his ashtray in his suitcase. He glanced around the apartment for anything that was solely his that wasn’t broken and waited for the knock on the door.

He shook Dean’s hand.

“I’m sorry it’s come to this man.”

“Me too, you’ve no idea.”

They jerked their heads to the bedroom at the sound of glass breaking. Sam had shattered the mirror.

Gabriel picked up his bag and walked out the door, down to his car, and he didn’t shed a tear until he was locked behind hotel and bathroom door, standing in the scalding hot shower.

~ fin? ~

**Author's Note:**

> I've left the question mark because I have an idea to continue this, not to make it nice and have everything work out, but to progress as naturally as possible in this sort of situation. It's still a ways off before I can get to it though. Remember to always love yourself first, be good to yourself, there is no one else who can do it for you.


End file.
